Disclaimer: The characters of Michaela Quinn and Byron Sully sadly do not belong to me, I am just borrowing them for the weekend. The dialogue used also does not belong to me, but comes from the script for Bad Water.
Author Note: This is my first DQ fanfic, and my first fanfic for a long time, so please be kind! I know that loads of stories exist about Bad Water, but I really wanted to try! Please read and review and feel free to tell me what you think in the DQ forum! Rainie!
Close Quarters.
By Rianne.
The rainstorm was picking up force. The heavy raindrops bouncing on the already sodden ground were making pit holes in the muddy earth. She watched the droplets run to form a river and shivered a little. The temperature had dropped severely since the sun had gone down and the cold was intensifying the ache in her swollen wrist. She lifted it protectively closer to her body, ignoring the protesting throb as best she could. She just felt plain foolish. Yet again her clumsiness had embarrassed her in front of Sully.
Drawing the blanket closer around herself with her good arm she could not help being pulled back into that moment in the teepee all those months ago. The blanket smelled like him and for a moment she could feel his strong hands squeezing her shoulders comfortingly. His nearness and the awareness of something changing in her life had momentarily overshadowed her fears about Brian's safety and the pressing loneliness she felt at being a million miles away from home and surrounded by Indians and hostile townsfolk. A lot had changed since then. But now her steadfast determination to prove she was capable had become an obsession again when she had tried her hardest not to let it.
Sully had seen right through it and she felt like he had seen right through her. But he hadn't laughed, hadn't acted superior when she had proved him right. It was like he had become a different man since that morning. He had been so gruff, so distant and hostile. So she had done what she always did naturally in situations where she was uncertain, she had clung to her determination. She had slaved over stringing up her own tent the night before, waving away his offer of help, for which she had received the cold shoulder. He had even turned away from her when he had laid down to sleep.
She breathed out in a huff of visible air, as she recalled how furious she had felt when he hadn't woken her that morning. He had made her irritated and hurt in equal measures and she had hated the confusion. Sitting alone in the dark, she found that she could finally admit that really she was more upset with herself. She knew why she was angry, she missed the strong, but gentle kindness to which he usually attended her and the realisation infuriated her all the more.
It was Olive's words that kept drifting back to her. "I can't imagine. Can you?" and the knowing look they had shared. She hadn't been able to forget it now that she was finally alone with Sully. "You know what I think. I think he's scared to be out there alone with you."
Michaela shook her head slightly as if to dislodge the thought from her brain as Sully re-emerged from the darkness. The rain had soaked him from head to toe. He carried a huge tree branch, which he threw to a stump and proceeded to chop into with his tomahawk. She could not take her eyes off him. The powerful swing of his broad shoulders splitting the wood with practised ease. He slung the severed branch up onto the shelter pausing to see if he could distinguish any weak points in the foliage. His unease was growing, but he knew he should hide it. The rain didn't look like it would stop any time soon and the last thing he needed was for her to know how uncomfortable this situation made him. Especially after the events of that afternoon.
She had asked him so hesitantly to do up her buttons. He knew how hard it had been, how embarrassing for her to have to ask, but she had no idea how hard the task had really been for him and yet……… his mind would not allow him to continue along that train of thought, but however hard he tried he just found his thoughts drifting back to it.
He had been struck by the depth of innocence in her eyes, knowing he made her feel uneasy and even more vulnerable and helpless than she already felt. She had trusted him out of necessity. He snuck a glance at her as she sat under the lean-to he had built. She looked so young, lost, defeated and dishevelled. He felt drawn to comfort her again, just like he had in the teepee all those months ago when she had been searching for Brian. It pained him to see her so deflated, when she was usually so strong and determined. That is all it was, he tried to convince himself, but it haunted him that she had let her guard down around him again and his mind again found its way back to trust.
To distract himself from these troubling thoughts he fussed with the branches again. Her head raised at the exact moment that he dared to look at her again and their gazes met and held for a moment before he looked away afraid his eyes would betray him.
His eyes, she couldn't hide from the flashbacks of the afternoon that flooded forth, what she had seen in them when he had buttoned her blouse had sent sparks through her and terrified her all at once. No one had ever looked at her quite like that before and her heart had wanted to beat right out of her breast. When her fingers grasped his and she felt his hand tremble ever so slightly she had wanted to run screaming in fear and delight, but she hadn't. Her proper Boston manners had kicked in and she had thanked him and moved away. He'd seen her in her underclothes, her cheeks flushed at the thought. Her Mother would have damned her to the fiery depths if she ever knew her proper Boston raised daughter had been in such a state of undress around him and him in even less! It had been for the good of their health she reminded herself. He had been the perfect gentleman. "Savages don't knock mother" she heard herself say.
She was becoming concerned for him now, the practised Doctor in her emerging. The pouring rain and the freezing water of the creek that morning would leave him susceptible to all sorts of ailments.
"Sully?" Her voice was so quiet against the elements that he was lucky to hear her.
"What!" He shouted back without looking at her.
"Come inside," she asked. Concern breaking through in her voice and her expression. He looked up at the sky determined to resist and be chivalrous to the end.
"It'll stop soon," he shouted back, knowing that it wasn't very likely too.
She pulled a face, "Don't be stubborn."
He met her gaze as he crouched down to her level.
"It's an old habit." He admitted with a shrug.
"Give it up," she said in a quieter voice shaking her head as her lips curved into a suppressed smile at the familiar words.
He looked at her for a few seconds, panting and shivering, torn. Looked back up to the sky, feeling the rain pour down his face.
That look in her eyes was back. Nervousness and her concern for his health fighting for dominance and he knew he could not fight her.
She only realised that her heart was pounding when he finally broke their gaze and made his way to the side of the lean-to. Slowly she laid herself down, careful with her injured arm, curling her legs up for warmth. It meant she did not have to look at him. She manoeuvred the blanket so that they could share it, feeling her cheeks flush once again at her presumption. She kept her gaze firmly on the edge of the clearing just visible through the darkness and the rain.
He climbed under the lean-to feeling the awkward tension spread to every muscle. He was grateful to be out of the rain, but he knew this night would not be easy. She was moving herself awkwardly into something resembling a sleeping position so he slowly followed suit. Careful not to touch her or make any sudden movements, mindful that he was still shivering uncontrollably. He lifted the blanket and eased himself under it, never taking his eyes off her, but she didn't turn. Placing his right arm above his head as a pillow he used his left to lightly smooth the blanket over her.
For a moment they both held their breath as his arm remained, resting lightly on her hip. Even cold as he was she could instantly feel the extra warmth the nearness of his body brought, the weight of his arm around her. Her mind was swirling. Letting out a slow breath she tried to reign in her thoughts and not let the situation or his caring and protective nature overwhelm her. She had never lain in a man's arms before, she had thought about it, dreamed about it, but it was finally happening. Her hand lay close to his against her body. She meant just to reach out and squeeze his hand in thank you at his unspoken understanding, but she found herself entwining her fingers with his and felt tingles rush as his fingers slid in between hers. It felt so right. She forced her lulling eyes to remain open as she drew comfort from him. Allowing herself to drift as she finally began to feel warm. She was awoken from her daydream by the sudden realisation that she was gently caressing his fingers with her own. She froze, until she felt his thumb gently swoop over her hand, the much larger, slightly rough fingers reminding her that he was real. How was she ever to sleep?
His heart had leapt when her fingers had touched his. So uncertain, her faltering touch, and then she had slipped her fingers between his and he suddenly felt like a clumsy giant. Her hands were so delicate and soft and her simple touch provoked dangerous thoughts in him. He couldn't help it, she was so close. Her gentle fingers continued to caress his and then for no reason she froze suddenly, her whole body tensing beside his and he knew she had felt it. This thing brewing and he knew it frightened her, but the last thing he wanted was for her to be afraid of him.
He took a risk, swooping his thumb across hers, not really wanting her to pull herself from him, but needing her to know that he would never wish her to be uncomfortable. She didn't pull away, he felt her relax a little more. He waited listening to the steady drum of the rain and the faint rhythm of her breathing.
After a while her hand stilled in his and her breathing became deeper and more even and he knew she had finally fallen asleep. He sighed softly, a little relieved, but knowing that sleep would be a long time coming to him tonight. He shifted a little, as his pillowing arm was becoming numb, but the movement brought him closer to her and he felt the tip of his nose brush against her soft hair. His head filled with the memories of how the golden strands had felt running through his fingers and the way that she had sighed, leaning back into his brush strokes. He couldn't resist, he breathed her in slowly. She still smelt like the sweet soaps she used despite her dip in the slimy cold creek. She'd pulled him to safety. "The Cheyenne would say you have a debt on me" he heard himself say. He closed his eyes forcefully, willing himself to sleep.
He had no idea how long he slept but he was awoken by a movement beside him. He slowly opened his eyes blinking in the early light to find she had turned toward him in her sleep. His hand remained in hers, she was grasping it so tightly to her breast that he could feel her heartbeat. He tried to gently prise his fingers away, but she murmured in her sleep and shifted again causing him to freeze and slam his eyes shut in case she awoke.
He waited but she didn't move again. When he reopened his eyes his breath caught, she had curled herself so close that their faces were less than an inch apart. She was so beautiful. He drank her in knowing that he may never have another chance like this. The arch of her cheekbone, the soft eyelashes against her cheek, the gentle upturned curve of her nose. He felt his brain almost blackout when her soft breath breezed over him and his gaze was helplessly drawn to her slightly parted lips. They were so close, they looked so soft and he couldn't help wondering what her kisses would feel like, what her lips would taste like. She sighed softly again and he panicked. He tried in vain to detangle his hand from hers, but she held fast. So stubborn even when asleep. He was trying to spare her the embarrassment! It was no use, the best he could do was to quietly hitch himself backwards so that she wasn't so close, her lips weren't so close. A small voice in his head called him a fool, but he ignored it. He closed his eyes once more and even though he wanted to wrap his arms around her and stay like that forever he forced himself to sleep, to not think about the thud of her heart against the back of his hand. He prayed for morning to come.
She awoke first, the rain having stopped, the early morning birds were making themselves known. The twinge in her wrist was the first thing to return her to her surroundings. Then it was the heavy, warm hand that he held against herself. Daring to open her eyes, she could feel the telltale flush sweep across her cheeks. She must have moved in her sleep. Sully was still sleeping his face level with hers. He looked young and calm. Her gaze lazily drifted over his face, his heavy eyelashes, the prickly stubble along his strong jaw. Her gaze faltered when she reached his mouth. She took a shuddering breath knowing that it wasn't proper to wonder what it would be like to be kissed by him. A deeper blush suffused her cheeks when she though of stolen glances she had dared when they had been drying their clothes in the sun. She had seen men without clothing before, but always in a medical context and none of them had looked like Sully. When he had stepped forward to help with her buttons she had tried to look anywhere but his chest, choosing his eyes instead. She felt a thrill of something new and exciting shiver through her. This trip certainly had turned into an adventure.
The trip, the water sample, the reason why they were risking life and limb. They needed to get moving if they were ever going to get the proof to stop Harding from poisoning the residents of Colorado Springs.
She tried to release Sully's hand and sit up, but his larger hand gently squeezed hers as his eyes blinked open. She smiled shyly, face to face with him for the first time since she had fallen asleep in his arms. "Good morning," she said softly.